Another Close Call

Chapter 1

I can't take it.

All these texts. Tweets.

"What are you gonna do?" Dale frets, before continuing, "It's one thing for a small town to have a trial. It's another thing when celebrities and actors are tweeting about you. How did this even get out?"

We are in the kitchen, just as I was about to start baking, my escape from this reality. Mama and Baba were at work and it was the perfect time to relax and do my own thing. But the universe literally said no as Dale had busted in, yelling in fury at his phone before showing me why.

"I-I told Marlyn," I say, unsure whether that would help or not. My apron is already on and I shove my hands into the pockets.

Dale swipes on his phone and his eyes widen then contract. I can see his expression changing from worried to furious. His tone is ice, just like the temperature. "You shouldn't have." I see his hesitation to show me what he has found. I stare at him imploringly. I need to know what Marlyn said.

Mal the Gal @tbh-marlyn 1w

I'm Marlyn Raymond and I'm 16. Most of you don't know me. I'll dive straight in. I'm friends with this girl called Wendy Luana. Recently she got a man in our area into a serious coma—not one of those your body is healing, wait a moment. I'm talking about a full blown almost death coma. Yes, this is real. No it's not clickbait: Town resident in critical condition after car plunges into the water Wendy told me and said she was innocent. I want all of your opinions. The police have released this footage into public: Is Wendy Luana innocent? New evidence sheds light in the Car Coma Case. Is she innocent?? You can clearly see Wendy walking after the car had already turned and in sight. I'm her friend. But its also my duty to tell the truth. Thanks for reading.

#fridayfiasco #carcomacase #evidence #waterwendy

67k retweets

My breath leaves my body. I close my eyes just as the dam breaks. I angle myself away from Dale, not wanting him to see my incoming tears.

Marlyn, who I have known for 6 years.

Marlyn, who is my first friend.

Marlyn, who I confide in.

Marlyn, the one to betray me.

I cry. But I also laugh; I can't help myself. It's ironic how I feared that someone like Ashley would be the one to crush me. But instead, it's the one closest to you that eventually ends you.

Quietly, Dale leaves, leaving his phone on the glass table. We understand each other. I need space. The silence in the room because of his silenced pings is almost suffocating.

I can't help myself, so I sneak another glance at the phone. Almost immediately, I recoil like I just touch poison. Maybe I did.

Swayna @StopDropAct 2hr

oh my gawd. hv u all seen this shit caused by this rat:
Link: Town girl allegedly sends man into a serious coma, possibly death?
#carcomacase #waterwendy

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Caleb Hastings @HastingsFam 1hr
Yeah—saw it while in vacay. Seems pretty serious... altho nice exchange for the usual politics #fridayfiasco

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Swayna @StopDropAct 1hr
hell nah. politics over this any day. girl got no morals. my forever sympathies to that poor man :(

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Spagboletti @poggetti7 1hr
fr someone oughta teach that girl some basic human morals #waterwendy

1.2k retweets

They turned me into a hashtag.

I get a sudden urge again, so I pick up the phone, which feels as heavy as lead and searches my name. I only get to 'We' before the Google explodes with articles. I have overwhelming nausea.

The articles about me are filled with clickbait titles, framing me as a child criminal that was not to be trusted.

A picture of me when I was 7 is up there. It's me winning a local baking competition for under tens. The article link reads in bold: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing: 10 Dark Facts About Wendy Luana

Dale's phone rings. The caller is his Asian girlfriend, Maise. She's nice to me so I pick up the phone but I don't get the chance to speak. Maise' clear and high voice blares from the phone. "Dale. Let's break up. Listen, before you say anything. I'm your girlfriend and I need to tell you. I'm worried about Wendy. She's young—just turned 12, right? The media is crueler than it looks and it looks bad already. I'm not picking sides but I'm gonna have to cut contact with you. I'm sorry, really. One of those days you're gonna find someone else and move on. For now... bye."

The other end clicks off and I'm alone with his phone.

"Dale?" I mean to call him down, to tell him, but it sounds like a question. He doesn't hear.

I run up the stairs two at a time, almost tripping, and slam my bedroom door shut. My family isn't rich, but we're well enough to have a single room for each of us. My room is my retreat, the place where I can find solace. A cozy space that I had decorated again and again. But now, it looks like any lonely room.

I flop onto my bed, expressionless. In the movies and books they portray releasing anger or sadness so easily—a scream into the pillow, a friend to vent to, even breaking things—but I just feel hollow.

Realization hits.

Maisie just broke up with Dale because of me.

I scream but the sound lodges in my throat. I feel myself finding it harder to breathe. My eyes dilates and my body starts to mildly convulse. I can't scream and I can't move.

The door bursts open.

Dale.

He rushes over and holds my hand. He strokes my hair and tells me to breathe. Finding myself pressing against the warmth of his body, I gradually calm and my breathing becomes spaced.

My first panic attack.

It happened not because I was dying or at a life-or-death occurrence but because I felt trapped even though I wasn't.

Dale continues stroking my hair wordlessly.

I lean against him.

At some point, his rhythmic breathing and timed strokes lull me to deep sleep. The calm is short-lived, because the nightmares come to visit.